


Now I’m the Only One to Blame

by kcracken



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco, Young Veins
Genre: Empathy, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-23
Updated: 2013-09-23
Packaged: 2017-12-27 09:36:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/977231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kcracken/pseuds/kcracken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer asks Ryan to meet him on Ryan's birthday to give him a present and confess a few things to him. This is a sequel of sorts to Therapeutic Chain of Events. Title taken from the lyrics to That Green Gentleman (Things Have Changed).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now I’m the Only One to Blame

_thespencersmith: Happy Birthday Ryan. Miss you, bud_

_therealryanross: Thanks man. How are things?_

_thespencersmith: Answer your phone._

Ryan looked down at his phone as it rang. He swiped his finger across the screen. “How are you doing? I talked to Brendon.”

“Yeah, I know,” Spencer answered. “He told me. Said he was surprised. Said you offered to talk whenever. I asked him if he made sure he was really talking to you.”

Ryan chuckled. Yeah, that hadn’t been his usual MO. He knew how much of a strain Spencer’s rehab would be on Brendon, and with Spence leaving again so soon after the tour had started, Ryan had wanted to give Brendon his support. “I still care, you know.”

Spencer sighed. “I know. Look, I know you’re probably busy and all today, but do you have a little time to spare for an old friend?”

“Uh…” Ryan went over his day in his head. Well, his friends were taking him out to dinner tonight, and Z wanted to go to lunch, but he had a little free time now. “Um, I can meet you in like half an hour or something if you want.”

“Half an hour. Sure, that sounds good. Um, we should meet somewhere out, like for coffee or something,” Spencer suggested.

Ryan searched his brain. “Uh, there’s a park near my place. I like to go there and read sometimes. And there’s a Starbucks like right across the street.”

“Oh, the one near that shopping center that’s right at the turn into your development?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. Meet you there in thirty? I’ll bring the coffee.”

“Sure, that sounds great,” Spencer says happily. Ryan tells him where to park and then they hang up. Spencer’s mood is a little lighter now that Ryan agreed to see him. He just hopes Ryan likes his present.

 

Ryan was running a little late. The Starbucks had been packed, but what did you expect on the Friday before Labor Day? He parked in his usual spot and grabbed the coffees as he got out of the car. He put the cups on the roof while he went around to the trunk and pulled out a blanket he kept in there.

He threw the blanket over his arm and grabbed the cups as he walked over to where he noticed Spencer sitting on a bench. “Hey.”

Spencer stood when he saw him approach. “Hey man. You’re looking good.” 

Ryan glanced down at himself. He was just wearing one of his LA Kings t-shirts and a pair of jeans. To him it was what he wore normally every day. “Thanks?” he said a little confused. “Uh, you look good, too. Um, you wanna sit under the tree? That’s where I like to sit when I come here to read.”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Ryan led the way towards his favorite tree. He handed Spencer his cup of coffee and spread out the blanket. They sat down and got comfortable, facing each other. “Have you seen Bren since he got back?” Ryan asked.

Spencer nodded handing Ryan back his cup. “You should have seen everything they got from the fans. There are videos and posters and photos and everything.”

“Well, you are popular. The fans always loved you.”

“Not like this, man.” Spencer shoved Ryan and smiled. “Never as much as you and Bren. This has been so incredible, the support.”

“You deserve it.”

They sat sipping their drinks, watching people passing by for a few minutes before Spencer reached for the bag he’d brought with him. “Um, I have a present for you,” he said and handed the bag to Ryan.

“You didn’t have to,” Ryan replied. He didn’t want to take the bag from Spencer. After all, they hadn’t exchanged presents in years. 

“Seriously man, just take it. It’s nothing much. Just… please?”

Reluctantly, Ryan took the bag from Spencer and opened it. He pulled out a framed picture, no pictures. He noticed it was a collage of pictures of Spencer and him from when they were little. “Dude, these are…”

“Yeah, Mom found them. Jackie scanned them and emailed them to me. I thought that maybe you might like copies, too.” Spencer looked a bit nervous. 

Ryan grabbed Spencer in a hug. “It’s awesome, Spence. Really. Thank Ginger and Jackie for me.”

Spencer sighed in relief and smiled. “Yeah, sure, because I did nothing other than print them out and even found a nifty frame and everything.”

Ryan snorted as he pulled back. “Linda probably got the frame.”

Spencer tried to pout, but ended up grinning and laughing instead. “Funny how people still know you after being apart.”

The tips of Ryan’s ears got red. “Um, well, Jackie and Crystal have kept me informed of what you’ve been up to. Then there’s the internet, too.”

“Yeah.” Spencer rubbed the back of his neck and the conversation came to a lulling stop as they sipped their coffee. Finally he spoke again. “Ryan, I’m sorry.”

Ryan slowly lowered his cup to stare at Spencer. “Sorry? What for?”

“For… for everything. Making you leave the band, becoming an alcoholic and a drug addict, not keeping in touch with you… I’m a pretty lousy friend.”

“Hey, it’s not all your fault. I could have kept in contact with you, too. And you didn’t exactly _make_ me leave the band.” Ryan looked down at his hands, feeling rather uncomfortable suddenly. It was a strange feeling to have with the person who had been his best friend since he was seven.

“Then what do you call strongly suggesting that you take your ‘stupid Beatles ideas’ elsewhere?” Spencer dropped his hands from where he had made air quotes and looked steadily at Ryan.

“A suggestion, just as you said.” Ryan refused to look up. He didn’t want to see the anger that had to be in Spencer’s eyes again. Hadn’t enough time passed? 

“It was a stupid suggestion, Ryan, and you knew that! This was our band. This was _your_ band. How could you just leave us?” Spencer couldn’t stop the tears that pricked the corners of his eyes. He’d spent countless hours talking to his therapists about this. Each one had said he needed to confront Ryan. He hadn’t wanted to do it before, but now that he was pretty much over everything else, he knew he had to take this step.

Ryan winced at the harshness in Spencer’s voice. He didn’t want to have this argument again. They had gone through this six years ago. It had hurt him enough then. “Creative differences,” he finally answered. “Brendon didn’t want to sing my words anymore. And I didn’t want to change my style again. I was tired, Spencer. We were expected to do something different yet again. What were we going to do next? Put on spandex and put out a stupid fucking disco album? At least then nobody would question us about our name.”

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, tugging on the strands. This had been a bad idea. They were both upset and it would just go in a circle yet again. Fuck. But he had to be honest with Ryan. He’d already been honest with Brendon and Dallon, with his family, with everyone else. Just not with Ryan. He was the last one.

“Ryan, listen,” he began then slid a little closer to him. “I didn’t… I didn’t start with the vicodin until after you left. I was drinking myself into a stupor every night because no one was there. Haley had already left me. You were gone. Jon was gone. Brendon was home with Sarah. What did I have? I was alone in the city of Angels feeling like Gabriel. I was falling, Ryan, and there was no one there to catch me.

“At first, I slept a lot. I mean, what else was there to do? We weren’t writing an album. We didn’t even fucking know what we were going to do. Brendon finally came over and said he had all these ideas for songs, so we started writing. I was having trouble just getting up and moving. I felt like maybe I’d just overtaxed my body, so I went to the doctor and they gave me vicodin.”

He sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face. “It was the only thing that made me feel right. I just… I kept taking it. Then I started taking it with a beer or whatever I was drinking at the time, which usually was something alcoholic. That made me feel even better, that I could face the world finally. I was fucking high through the entire recording of the album, Ryan. When we were practicing for tour, everything sounded so wrong. I couldn’t even remember writing most of it.”

He glanced at Ryan and saw the look on his face. He looked almost haunted. He looked like he was fifteen again. “Goddamnit, Ryan. Don’t you _dare_ blame yourself. This was _not_ your fault. I’m the fuck up here. You know what addiction does. You _grew up_ with an addict. None of what he ever did or said was your fault, just like none of what _I_ did was your fault.”

Ryan couldn’t stop the tears this time. He leaned over and grabbed Spencer in a hug as he began to cry. “I’m sorry, Spence. I’m so sorry. I told you I’d never leave you and I did. I hurt you.”

Spencer pulled him closer. “Fuck, Ryan,” he breathed, close to tears now himself. “It’s not your fault. Please, don’t ever think that.”

“But I hurt you, Spence. I hurt you.” Ryan buried his head in Spencer’s shoulder.

“Yeah, maybe,” he said with a sigh. Ryan had hurt him by turning away. But neither one of them made an effort to contact each other after everything settled down. They were both at fault here. “But I hurt you, too, Ry. I should have called. I should have.”

Neither one of them cared that they were being watched. The world was passing them by, moving on, but they were trying to heal the rift they had caused between them. They held each other tightly, Ryan’s sobs slowing and Spencer’s breathing evening out. 

Ryan eventually released Spencer and sat back, raising his t-shirt to wipe his eyes. “Sorry. I just…” He wasn’t able to finish because his phone beeped. He pulled it out of his pocket to see a message from Z. “I… I’ve gotta go, Spence,” he said sadly. 

Spencer nodded. He understood. “It’s your birthday. It’s okay.” He reached out to squeeze Ryan’s shoulder gently. “Hey, we’re having a party on Monday. Why don’t you come?”

Ryan shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. But I hope we can keep in touch now, like maybe go out every once in a while or something. I have really missed you.”

Spencer smiled brightly. “Yeah, definitely. I missed you, too, Ryan.” He stood up and helped Ryan to his feet. He pulled him into another big hug. “Happy Birthday, Ryan. I love you, man.”

Ryan melted into the hug. Despite his apprehension, this had turned out pretty great. “Thanks. Happy early Birthday to you and love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Totally not real, of course, because this would never happen. Even if I really, really, really wish they would talk to each other like this. My muses just needed a little closure between them.


End file.
